Hi! I think I had hit a writer's block. It was so hard to write this chapter!
Thank you so much for your patience!
RedRangerBelt – You ask all the right questions, you know that? They will be answered within this story, so do not fret!
Rinnesuke – Yes, it was italicized on purpose.
Bannanibo – Oh yeah! I already have the plot in mind!
NoTagBacks – Thanks for that. Ron actually gasps because Harry said that he didn't know how honey would help. It was a sarcastic dramatic gasp and Harry and Ron fight almost childishly for Harry's essay (Ron wanted to copy it.)
xXTheDragonRiderXx – No probs. At least, I know that you're reading the story. Yeah, we are close to the end.
– Hey, thank you for your direct bluntness. It kind of jolted me out of my block and I just finished this chapter now. You really have patience!
Disclaimer: I don't own the HP series. JKR does.
Words – 2134
It was dark and cold. Well, he was always cold, so that didn't matter much, but Harry felt irritated when he couldn't open his eyes. It had taken him some time to feel his immobile fingers and toes. After some time he realized that he was in the Hospital Wing. The blanket over him was much thicker than the one on his bed. The bed was much softer. He didn't like it.
There wasn't any distinctive smell of medicines like there would have been in a muggle hospital ward, but Harry could get the scent of root of aconite. It was used in some mild healing potions.
After some time, he could hear too. Familiar voices.
"He never told us." A whisper from Hermione. Harry tried to move his hands but couldn't.
"It looks horrible. What do you think that is?" Ron's voice came from the other side.
"I have no idea. It must be something special. Harry isn't one to wear jewelry." Seamus snorted.
The voices drowned out. After sometime, he felt a bit more conscious. He tried to keep his breathing normal. Listening around, he heard the footsteps of 'Poppy' the matron. She seemed to leading another set of footsteps closer to Harry. He took a slow breath and decided, by the subtle swish of robes across the ground, that it was Dumbledore.
There was a gentle breeze which sent his skin tingling. Harry heard the matron leave and then silence.
He wasn't sure if the Headmaster planned to sit there until Harry 'woke up', so to know what the older man had to say, Harry asked in a low voice, "Is Bolt okay?"
He opened his eyes and turned his head towards Dumbledore, who looked back at him, his blue eyes twinkling.
"Well, good evening, Harry." He said, quite amused.
"Evening?" Harry pushed himself up and stopped at the soreness of his chest.
"Please lie down, Harry. Or Poppy will have me chased from the Hospital Wing." Dumbledore said patting Harry's shoulder. The latter sighed and laid back.
"Your encounter, yesterday, with Quirrell had been rather draining. But if you do take the Calming Draught before late evening, you won't miss supper."
Harry nodded and sighed.
"Your familiar is currently resting. As should you, by the way. She had been taxed when she tried to shield you from the blast."
Harry frowned and removed the sheets. He saw Bolt curled up by the side of his chest, her size almost as small as when he had first seen her at the Emporium. She twitched a little and leaned closer to him, unconsciously.
It was then Harry realized that he was wearing a loose white shirt and pale pajama pants. The sleeves where short and showed every inch of skin on his lower arm. He tried to swallow his horror when he saw his damned bracelet glint in the light.
"Poppy had nearly gone into a coronary when she had undressed you." Dumbledore muttered looking at the white scars on his white arms. It made the shirt and sheets look dull. Harry slunk back onto the bed, pulling the sheets till his neck. He had never worn light coloured clothes for years.
He didn't want to see him, but Harry braced himself for the onslaught of questions as he looked up at the Headmaster. Dumbledore merely stared at him waiting for Harry to start. The silence was rather brittle.
"Physically, you should feel better in about an hour." He said and Harry nodded.
Dumbledore waited. He didn't want Harry to keep secrets from him, but knew that the boy was entitled to have them. Something had gone wrong. Something had gone terribly wrong.
Harry frowned to himself. He had expected Dumbledore to be slightly overbearing. Pressuring him into talking. Although, the quiet told Harry that it was his decision.
But it will come out somehow; best to divulge it yourself.
The Sorting Hat's words swirled around and Harry felt his head ache. He grimaced exactly when Madam Pomfrey came into view and she glared at the Headmaster.
"Now, Professor! I told you not to talk too –"
"No, Poppy. I was thinking something else." Harry said quickly, tapping the side of his lower lip softly with the little finger on his right hand. It was a small habit he picked up from Percy.
It worked. The faux innocent look of the child displaced the matron. She shot a calculating look at the Headmaster before bustling away.
Dumbledore hummed and smiled at Harry. Harry lowered his hand back under the sheet.
"Where's Ron and Hermione?"
"On the grounds, I believe. It is a bright day. You missed the match this morning." Dumbledore said lightly and Harry's eyes widened.
"Match?"
"The Quidditch match, of course."
Harry was about to panic before he remembered that the match was between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.
"Who won?"
"Ravenclaw. Filius has been rather smug about it in the Staff Room. You should have seen the joust between him and Minerva. It was a thankful deviation from Minerva's and Severus' verbal wars."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the memory. Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that so he changed the topic.
"And Quirrell?"
Dumbledore gave a sigh. "I think you know what happened there."
Harry thought back. He and Quirrell were too close to the wand. Voldemort was a black mist hovering over them. Too much noise and screaming.
"He…he's dead?" Harry asked a bit numbly. Dumbledore looked at the stand next to him and said, "Yes. He couldn't withstand the explosion."
Harry shut his eyes tightly before opening them again. He blinked once and then reached for his glasses from his nightstand.
He wasn't sure why he didn't remember them immediately but that flew out of the window when he saw the stand beside his bed, overflowing with packages of sweets and chocolates.
"Uh…"
"Tokens from your well wishers. Everyone has been worried for you." Dumbledore said lightly highly enjoying Harry's expression.
Harry picked the nearest pack which turned out to be blood pops. It seemed like some sick joke.
"Voldemort!" Harry said suddenly.
"He's gone, Harry."
"But…he was there! All these months! If he could get into the castle through someone else –"
"Exactly. There are other ways through which he could have come, but he chose Quirrell who had unfortunately wandered into his presence about a year ago. He must have sensed that Quirrell was weak-minded and had successfully controlled him using his fear." Dumbledore said somberly.
"He came because you had hidden the stone, right? Because of the Philosopher's Stone." Harry said and Dumbledore looked proud.
"Yes. He did. I suppose it was also so that he could see you with his own eyes rather than hear warped rumours."
Harry's heart sank, "He must have observed me all the time. Was that why my scar was hurting?"
Dumbledore frowned, "P…possibly. Was your scar hurting all the time?"
"No. Only in the mornings and afternoons. Sometimes during the nights too." Harry thought.
"Some days, I just get used to it." He said shrugging.
"Any particular pattern?"
"Usually on the days when Quirrell gets irritated with me. He sets of when I do anything he considers out of line."
Dumbledore gave a half smile at that.
"Voldemort was rather good at evaluating people. But he must have had no choice when Quirrell came across him. Of course that was just temporary. His real objective was the stone which he was, thankfully, unsuccessful. Now that these events have been released into the world, Nicolas has decided to destroy the stone. He has been one of my oldest companion. I will miss Perenelle."
"He decided to die?"
"Nicolas and Perenelle have been rather tired. They feel that it is time to turn in. They seemed calm with the decision. I have said my goodbyes, of course."
Harry went quiet. The couple was actually ready to die. After five to six centuries of living and seeing the world change, it seemed unrealistic to end abruptly. Or maybe it wasn't too sudden for them.
"Is this because they see it in threat from Voldemort?"
"That among other things. They have lived through the war and so completely understand the danger. The moment Nicolas realized what the transpired event meant, he and his wife had discussed at length and came to the current conclusion."
Harry nodded. Dumbledore smiled, "You are much older than your peers Harry. I suppose you have figured out every aspect. Your cursed scar, your connection to Voldemort –"
"What?!"
"It's quite safe to say that your scar connects you to Voldemort." He told Harry.
Harry stared. "Safe to say…?"
"There had to be a reason to why Quirrell's body was completely ashes." Dumbledore said pointedly. Harry's eyes widened. He remembered that. He remembered feeling blistering pain as he pushed Quirrell away. He couldn't forget Quirrell's skin melting and falling right before his eyes.
"That was very powerful magic. The fact that you can wield it and Voldemort cannot, makes everything quite different. Yes, he would never realize the power. He had obviously underestimated you. Quirrell, sharing his soul with someone like the Dark Lord of course, wouldn't be able to touch you."
Dumbledore nodded to himself and Harry swallowed. What kind of power was that? He hadn't a clue.
"Your mother had given you that magic. It's quite visible on you; especially the fact that even though Voldemort did try to kill you, the curse rebounded back. What was left of him fled the night leaving you alive and safe."
Harry stared. He felt it a bit harder to breathe.
"Of course there is some power within you. Something so strong to banish darkness for years. Power like that will always leave a mark." Dumbledore sighed and Harry immediately touched his scar.
"No. Nothing visible. It lives in your very skin."
Harry frowned, "What is it?"
Dumbledore smiled, "Love, Harry. Love."
He looked outside the window and hummed slightly. Harry sighed. He felt confused and….happy?
"It is a very bright day. I suggest you make a start on these sweets before Poppy condemns them. I will, of course, see you at dinner."
Harry sighed and nodded. He reached for the Sugarless Vipers and as Dumbledore got up to leave, Harry suddenly asked, "Headmaster? I want to ask you something."
"You have already done so, but I will however give you another chance."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Do you mind if I take a port-key to New York during the holidays? You can accompany me."
Dumbledore looked rather surprised, "And what exactly do you expect to find there?"
Harry shrugged.
The Headmaster looked rather resigned as he said, "I do not really have any aversion to a trip but you should know that the country is baffling to us. Not once in many centuries has a wizard or witch come from US."
"So?"
"There is no literal magic blood, there. Most avoid the entire continent with beliefs that there is nothing of consequence to us. So, I simply need a firm explanation as to why you have to travel to a land of no magic."
Harry said in exasperation, "Just because the entire place is filled with muggles, doesn't mean –"
"I agree." Dumbledore said. "It doesn't."
"Then why –"
"I am not letting you go there alone, Harry. Also, I cannot accompany you. Summer holidays are as relaxing for me as it is for you and your friends." He said this albeit sadly.
"Someone else can help me." Harry said quickly. But Dumbledore shook his head.
"The Ministry frowns upon travels to that continent in particular. They most certainly would not allow you, Harry."
"What about Hagrid?"
"Why do you want to go there in the first place?"
Harry slunk back into the bed and said, "I know someone there."
Dumbledore blinked and looked above his half-moon glasses. There was sore silence as the sharp gaze made Harry uncomfortable. The blue eyes were just like Daniel's.
Or DJ's.
"May be when you're older. I'm quite sure you'll find a way by yourself."
Harry's head snapped up at that. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Huh?"
"Oh, you are quite smart, Harry. You'll figure it out. Listen to you familiar."
Dumbledore got up and with a parting smile left the room. Harry frowned trying to make use of the information. Did he give Harry a clue? 'A way by yourself'
Something exclusively used by Harry. What could that be?
Bolt shivered slightly in her sleep and Harry picked her up and stroked her fur. She calmed down instantly. She always advised him. Her most used words were to always strengthen his Core.
The word clicked in his head. Nature! He was unique in that field! Would nature itself help him reach his family?
Thank you guys for waiting so long. The last chapter will be coming up soon, hopefully. (Just joking!)
Stay tuned!
Cabba.